


got a bullet in the chamber and this is gonna hurt

by VolxdoSioda



Series: Whumptober 2018 (Complete) [26]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Day 26 - Broken ribs, M/M, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Noctis' depression likes to swing back around some days to kick him in the teeth. Sometimes when this happens, he wakes up illogically angry at everything, and goes looking to pick fights.This time though, he doesn't make it out entirely unscathed.





	got a bullet in the chamber and this is gonna hurt

The Garulessa of the Slough are usually easy to handle. They never bother with the younger Garula, and the Garulessa usually fall back in favor of keeping the herd safe once one of them is brought down. It's easy to pick off the sick, the weaker, the lame, though taking down a healthy Garulessa is manageable if everyone's on the same page in regards to how to do it.

Today, 'easy' has become 'difficult' and 'manageable' has become 'impossible' in Noctis' books.

It gets like this, sometimes. For all the traveling they do, for all the enjoyment there is to be found in being alongside his partners and learning how to make ends meet, for all the sweetness of waking up together, there are days where his depression kicks him between the teeth, his anxiety chokes him with reminders of his failures and doubts for the future, where his body refuses to move or cooperate and all he can do is shuffle around like a zombie and try not to drag his friends down with him.

Some of it comes from the seasonal change. The rest just comes from his body, and there is very little Noctis can do to control it. They've all seen the signs of another impending dip, and they've all become patient, willing to let Noctis retreat into himself, even as they nudge him outside for morning walks or runs, or keep the chatter going to fill the empty space where he's vanished. 

But sometimes, the depression truly hits a place where it's hard to care about living or dying. Where he starts thinking  _what's the point?_ when Gladio or Ignis or Prompto yell  _"Look out!"_ and everyone scrambles to get out of the way of whatever beast is coming towards them.

Today, its the Garulessa. An hour at most to bring one down, to harry one away from the herd and watch the  others shuffle off into the distance, leaving one behind to be their meal. Today, Noctis wakes up angry at himself, at everyone. He doesn't know why - he just is. He knows rationally there's no logic behind his anger, and he needs not to be snappy. His friends know he knows this, and that he's trying not to be. He's fighting it, but he's so tired of having to fight it. He's so tired of  _everything._

So he charges at the Garulessa, picking a fight without talking, and his friends yell and scramble to catch up to him. Gladio is the first there, as usual, because he's intimately familiar with Noctis' need to throw himself at walls when his temper kicks up for no reason. They start separating the one Noctis charged from the herd, and at first, it seems to be going fine, if off to an interesting start.

And then the herd changes tactics. One apparently decides it doesn't want to meander away with the herd, but instead stand with and protect the one being attacked. For large, lumbering beasts, they can be surprisingly quick when they want to be. Noctis doesn't even see it move, but suddenly a mountain is slamming into his side, catapulting him into the air. He slams hard into the earth, rolling downhill before he hits a tree and stops.

"Noctis!"

"Noct!"

"Are you okay?!"

He doesn't get up. Doesn't even try. There's too much pain - every breath hurts. He knows something's broken. He can taste blood on his tongue, and every breath feels like someone's taking a chainsaw to his chest. The panic sets in before he can stop it, because he can hear the herd moving closer, and he knows if he doesn't get out of the way, they'll crush him. He has to drag himself to safety. He has to, because the others have their hands full keeping the herd away from Noctis.

Agony. It's pure, mind-bending agony, gripping the grass with one shaking hand and pulling himself up with his sword. As soon as he's on his feet, he dismisses the blade, no longer concerned with fighting, and slowly begins to hobble away, hoping to break line of sight. The Garulessa usually don't pursue like predators - Sabertusks would hunt him down, but the Garulessa only fight if there's a threat. 

There's plenty of large stone clusters in the Slough, and Noctis takes refuge behind the closest one, all but collapsing as soon as he gets behind it. He tries to fumble for the potion in his pocket, but it hurts too much to try to grab it, and so he stops and instead listens to the distant ring of gunfire and voices. 

He must pass out for a bit, because the next time he's aware of anything it's Gladio's soft voice urging him to open his eyes, fingers gently tapping his face. Noctis peels open eyes that feel far heavier than they should, and finds them all around him, worry on their faces.

"Welcome back," Gladio says, Ignis already carefully pulling his shirt up. "Shit," he says a second later, and Noctis looks down.

The entire right side of his ribcage is red and yellow, and there's several sharp protrusions that tell Noctis all he needs to know about the state of his body. 

"Easy," Gladio says, when Noctis tries to pull away from the hand Ignis lays on the wound. "We're gonna get you fixed up, Noct. Iggy just has to see what you need, that's all."

Ignis is as gentle as he can possibly be, for all the flinching and knee-jerk reactions Noctis has to the touch. Mouth thin, he says at last, "It's going to need at least three hi-potions, and then three to six weeks to full recovery."

"Shit," Prompto mutters. "You don't do things by halves, do you buddy?"

"Sorry," Noctis mumbles. "Won't happen again."

Gladio flicks his nose for that, giving him a knowing look as he does. Noctis just nods his head, and stays quiet except to hiss at the cold press of the liquid against his side. The protrusions against his skin fade, the color paling, though not gone completely. Breathing at least becomes manageable.

"Come on Princess, let's get you to the car." Gladio carefully hooks an arm beneath his good side, pulling him to his feet. He leans against Gladio and Prompto as he walks, Ignis striding ahead, knives in his hand in case something decides to test its luck against them. 


End file.
